Drugs Are Forever
by GoldenDragonLol
Summary: With a new crime organization about to take action, Reese and his team are out to save the world again. Only this time, drugs are not the only problem. Reviews are welcomed. (Warning: I am not sure of how to rate this story! So read at your own risk.)


**A/N: This content includes the use of drugs. Read for your own sake...mwahahaha! P.S. I don't know how to rate this story...So if any one has any ideas or suggestions, they are all welcomed to write a review.**

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_Chapter One~ The Deal_

Location: In an unknown area

Amidst the swarm of citizens, a small shack not far by the city's corner sat darkly against an old abandoned building. Part of its front window was shattered, leaving behind a few nasty looking sharp edges. The bricks that held the roof also appeared to have endured many hardships as well: its previous red colored blocks now turning dull and grey.

If it were not for its lively surroundings, the shed would have been like a haunted site.

Besides a small table in the middle of the empty room, a figure waited patiently in the shadows. A fine silver watch strung around his wrist as he drummed his fingers lightly on his lap. On the wooden table-top, an envelope,sealed shut, sat on the surface.

The man glanced at his watch: one o'clock P.M., late. The middleman should've been here half an hour ago. Outside, a raven cawed, sending a flock of nearby birds to take off from their perches. Still, the figure remained unmoved. All was quite. A ruffle sound of footsteps out the door suddenly made its way to his ears. He tensed. The middleman had come.

Sitting up, he straightened his suit and prepared to meet the liaison. Slowly, the front door creaked open, and a man in his late forties entered the shack. He was dressed in a casual grey suit, dress pants, and leather shoes. But his overall character seemed tired, with his eyes sagging and beard untrimmed.

The middleman noticed the figure by the table and he took a cautious step forward.

"Good afternoon, Francesco." He greeted quietly. The seated man gave a nod of his head in return.

"You're late, Nash. I was expecting you at least half an hour earlier." Francesco's tone was gruff. He had many other things that needed seeing to, and that did not include waiting for a slow turtle.

Nash grunted uncomfortably. He stepped into the light and handed Francesco a small bundle of pills.

"Sorry, sir. I had to move carefully. The police are everywhere." He explained. "Here. I got you the marijuana tablets you requested for." Setting the bundle aside on the table, Nash faced his apparent employer. Francesco reached out and grabbed the sealed envelope. He nudged it at Nash, motioning him to take it.

The middleman's for head creased as he stared down at the package in confusion. "Money? What do you want me to do for you now?"

Francesco snorted softly. "I'm giving you half a million to ship my box of heroin to the Vespers. I want no accidents, no extra obstacles, or time. You'll receive the second half once the deal with them has been made. And once I have the whole bargain made successful, you shall have a reward of another five million."

Nash furrowed his brow at the job. Dwindling his fingers, he contemplated his offer. The money wasn't enough for such a dangerous job. If he was to get caught, then every thing would be over. For him, and for Celia.

"More." He hissed. "I want more. This isn't enough for a risky assignment like this!" Taken by surprise, Francesco raised an eyebrow. He chuckled and leaned back leisurely on his chair, as though he was mocking the older man's words.

"More? I don't think you are in the position to make suggestions here." He stuck his hands under the table and pulled out a suitcase. It was plain black, with a set of latches and a key chain. Tossing Nash the keys, he smirked at his middleman's distress.

Nash clenched his fists around the cold metal object. The pointy edges dug deep into his palm. "I'm telling you: it is not enough, Francesco."

"Don't cross your line, _Nash."_ Francesco warned._ "_You are only a middleman and nothing else. Unless you want me to drag your daughter into this as well..."

Nash's eyes widened with horror and he took a step back. "No, no please! Anything but that."

"If you say so." Francesco's teeth gleamed in the dark. Rising from his seat, he walked until he only a few inches away from his employee. Narrowing his eyes, he took his gun out and cocked it, showing him that he had a weapon to defend himself.

"Tread carefully." He whispered. "If I weren't there to recruit you that night, I'm afraid you'd still be in that ridiculous debt of yours. All you need to know now is that I give the orders, and you carry them out. And if you have any problems with that, it'll just be a simple goodbye to you and Celia. No one would ever know, and no one would ever even notice. Is that clear enough for you?"

Stepping away from Nash, he tucked the hand-gun back into his suit. Nash felt his temper flare. But he wasn't in a position to say anything. A wrong move could end his life and his daughter's. He was trapped. Not uttering another word, he snatched the suitcase from Francesco and began to head for the door.

Pausing at the mouth of the opening, he turned to face him once more. "Yes, that is very, _very _clear for me, Francesco. Good day." With that, he stepped out into the crowded streets and was gone.

Back in the shed, the man chortled at the liaison's stupidity. Even near death, he still had to retain that stubbornness of his. Francesco shook his head dramatically. Henchmen, they were never meant to have freedom. The only thing they could ever obtain was enslavement. And the old fool would never understand it.


End file.
